Class 




relight N° l^ic 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr 



IN THE BLUE 



BY 
AIDNA VAN ORDEN 



9 



Ube 1knlcfterboc??er press 

NEW YORK 
1913 






Copyright, 19 13 

BY 

AIDNA VAN ORDEN 



TIbe IRniclJcrbocfeer ipress, IRew K?orft 




/S£n -v. 



Never descrying an end in his infinite, 
Beats as he may little bird in the blue/' 



CONTENTS 








PAGE 


The Sea-Gull ..... i 


The Shore at Night 








2 


Art and Nature 








4 


Life at Fifteen 










6 


Love's Bringing 










8 


The Riddle 










9 


The Riviera 










1 1 


Ancestral Home 










. »3 


A Christmas Song , 










. r5 


Toward Light 










. '7 


Daphne. 










. i8 


Canoe Song 










. 20 


For the New Year 










21 


Message-Rose . 










. 23 


Voyagers 










. 24 


Sonnet . 










. 26 


Notre Dame 










. 28 


In Napoli 










. 30 


The Gypsy Heart . 










. 3« 


Love Song 










. 33 











page 


A Summer Souvenir . . . . -34 


The Gift 








36 


Sonnet .... 








57 


A Frozen Waterfall 








59 


In Later Days 








42 


A Dream Portrait . 








. 46 


Sapphic Verse . 








49 


Light .... 








51 


Memory . 








. =^4 


Bon Voyage 








• 55 


Norway . 








. 57 


Scotland 








. 58 


England 








. 59 


Japan 








. 60 


The Marseillaise 








. 61 


Death 








62 


MoNA Lisa to Leonardo 








. 63 


A Summer Day 








. 65 


From Horace's Odes — Advice to Licinius 


. 66 


Sonnet . 


• 






. 69 



VI 



IN THE BLUE 



THE SEA-GULL 

MY soul rides out with thee, 
Out on the stormy sea, 
O wild affinity. 
Bird in the blue! 

Poising strong wings on high, 
Seeing but waves and sky. 
It is so far to fly, 
Up in the blue. 

This stormy life of mine 
And that wild life of thine 
Both seek the self-same sign. 
Out in the blue. 

Both search infinity — 
What that far land may be, 
Beyond the sky and sea. 
Beyond the blue. 



THE SHORE AT NIGHT 

THE beach and little waves and wide, 
wide sky. 
The half-grown moon and floods of 

silver light. 
No modern world, ambition, power, nor 

praise 
Can touch the stillness of the primal 
night. 



Many another wanderer on the sand 

Of this same shore, 'neath this same 

shining sky, 
Has sat him down to dream in wild 

content 
By moon and sea in ages long gone by. 

2 



Many and many has the moon looked 

on, 
Coming and going like the springtime 

grass. 
Here did a mighty city stand of yore — 
These things are nothing as the aeons 

pass. 

And thou beside me! As I speak thy 

name, 
Among thine own an honored name 

enow, 
No name hast thou in face of this wide 

world, 
And I am nameless too — just I and 

Thou. 

We have found peace to-night in this 

our life, 
There is no harm here if we sleep or die. 
We shall lie safe against the good to 

come 
Here on the sand dunes 'twixt the sea 

and sky. 

3 



ART AND NATURE 

WE give our lives to art, to paint 
anew 
The graceful form or brilliant evening 

sky, 
The meadow and the clouds, the rose's 

hue. 
The sheep and lonely shepherd passing 
by. 

But oh, how poor all art is when we see 

The thrilling, throbbing blue of summer 
noon. 

The dimpling water and the wind- 
blown tree, 

The purple sky and great gold Harvest 
moon! 

4 



We give our lives to music, dreaming yet 
Of harmonies for ever old and new, 
Some lovelier song the world can ne'er 

forget, 
Some melody to live the ages through. 

But one day I was walking by the shore, 
And far across the blue and living sea 
A little clear-toned bell rang — Never- 
more 
I knew as then the joy of harmony. 

thrilling world of color, light, and 

sound! 

1 look and listen till my soul, too small, 
Can drink in no more beauty, dazed 

and drowned 
In that blue fire of sunlight whelming 
all. 



LIFE AT FIFTEEN 

THE world to youth is like a place 
illumined and made gay 
As is a rugged landscape by the glory, 
Not of the sun descending in its fury 
Which gathers all hot passions from the 

fiery glowing day, 
But of the rising sun when with its soft 

and gentle ray 
It touches with its holy kisses all rough 

places bare 
And throws its warm and rosy light so 

sweetly pure and fair 
Across our path, as youth's glad spirit 
on our life's rough way. 
6 



But when the new day quickly passes on 

to noon's bright height, 
As do our lives from their bright rosy 

dawning, — 
For short, so short, is life's brief 

fleeting morning — 
The soul sees clear and understands in 

its new stronger sight 
Much that was hid or tinted by the 

dawning's rosy light; 
And as the rays grow strong and warmer 

so the passions' fires 
Of love, of good and evil deepen, and 

all soul's desires, 
Until at last life's restless day fades into 

peaceful night. 



LOVE'S BRINGING 

OLOVE, for many a weary year 
1 waited for thee, 
1 feared thou might'st be straying near 
But passing o'er me. 

I prayed that I might know at last 

The joy compelling, 
That peace and comfort which thou hast 

All joys excelling. 

But Love — thy only gift is pain, 

No storms abating, 
O Love, please give me back again 

My days of waiting. 



8 



THE RIDDLE 

THE riddle of the world is wondrous 
change 
Of birth and death in endless wave and 

tide, 
Dust that was sun and will be sun again. 
Land that was sea on some lost ocean 
side; 



Life that was low in crystal or in worm, 

Life that was flame of some self-con- 
scious soul, 

Low shall be high and highest low again. 

Birth, death, and change will make the 
cycle whole. 

9 



Motion is life. Is never rest to be 
Nor last still death of planet, star, and 

sun? 
What is the end? The children may 

not see — 
The Riddle's primer is but just begun. 



10 



THE RIVIERA 

OBOW of sunshine bending round 
the sea, 
O curving shore with palms and olives 

drest, 
O little isles, the home of saints of old, 
In thy warm lap give weary pilgrims 
rest! 

Ye ruined castles watching on the hills 
Were warders in those days of long ago 
When Saracen and pirate swept the 

sea 
And filled the fisher towns with bloody 

woe. 

Ye saw the cruel wars of robber lords, 

The passionate hates of Guelph and 

Ghibelline, 

II 



Madonnas saving and Madonnas blind. 
And miracles of hermit cave and shrine. 

But ever thro' those long two thousand 

years 
The fisher folk lived simple lives and 

free, 
The warmest sun and bluest skies were 

theirs 
And ever on the rocks that blue, blue 

sea. 

O blessed land! O real Earth Paradise! 

O thou sweet shore, a stormless azure 
bow. 

Grant wanderers an eternal summer- 
time. 

Safe from the mistral and the Alpine 
snow! 



12 



ANCESTRAL HOME 

WHAT are you dreaming, little 
Syrian maid. 
Of waving palm trees and long level 

sand. 
Of camels coming homeward to the 

night, 

Familiar sights and sounds of your far 

land? 



Born here, you say, and never saw the 

East, 
You in whose eyes the mystic Orient 

reigns, 
A face which Persian Omar might have 

sung 
And little fingers made for henna stains. 

13 



Your mother knows these things, you 

say, and oft 
At sunset, when is time to kneel in 

prayer. 
She turns toward Mecca and the holy 

East, 
Craving the Call thro* the still evening 

air. 

Once more she yearns to feel the burning 

sun, 
Not the pale sunshine of this Northern 

clime, 
Once more to carry the stone pitchers 

down 
To the great well in the cool evening 

time. 

So you sit dreaming, little Western 

born, 
Into the sunset, letting your soul roam 
Away across the desert, midst the palms, 
Feeling, you know not why, so far from 

home. 

14 



A CHRISTMAS SONG 

O'ER Juda's hills in quiet sleep, 
Where shepherds wild their 
charges keep, 

Clear came the call through silence deep. 
The sweet refrain with glad acclaim 
Swelled with the glowing roseate flame 
And angels' snowy wings unfurled, — 
"Sing, sing, glad heart, the Child has 
come. 
Has come to still the weeping of the 
world." 

Oh wondrous night of long ago 
When Heaven bent to Earth so low, 
She listening with rapt ear to know 
The Master's will, in mystic calm 
Lay lulled in silence' holy balm 

15 



So still — till hark, the heavens ring, 
"Oh greet the Child, the Child has 
come, 
Glad welcome to the Babe Divine we 



sing/' 



Those poor Judaeans long ago 
With opened eyes could see and know 
And find the Child in his manger low. 
Oh might our eyes this Christmas night 
See flaming skies and the angels bright 
And white wings flashing as we hear 
The anthem swell, "The Light has 
come, 
Now steal away, O shades of darkness 
drear!" 



i6 



TOWARD LIGHT 

A S quiet after storm, 
^'*' As sunshine after rain, 
As day must follow night, 
So rest comes after pain. 
What if the path is dark nor any ray 
Of light we see — the shades will flee 
away. 

Oh the sweet hope we have 
That sometime by and by 
We '11 rise above the clouds 
And lift our heads on high, 
While on our faces falls the waiting 

peace 
And the wild dreaming of the night shall 
cease. 



17 



DAPHNE 

WHY does gentle Daphne wear 
Rosy blossoms in her hair, — 
Rosy buds with dewdrops gleaming. 
In a garland fresh and fair? 
For the winds all perfume laden 
Bring their message to the maiden 
In her spring of happy dreaming 
Rich and rare. 

Wand'ring down the grassy way 
With a dancing sunbeam's ray 

On her cheek so faintly blushing 
Kissed by many a sunshine fay, 
She is near the Spring's heart-beating, 
She is answering to the greeting 
Of the earth and sky all flushing 
With the May. 
i8 



spring of life and Spring of spring. 
Sweet and clear the Voices ring, 

Gaily calling the death-saddened 
World to raise her voice and sing. 
Leave the shadows and the sighing, 
Come with Daphne, All-defying, 

See the earth with May-life gladdened 
Blossoming. 



19 



CANOE SONG 

OVER the water the swift canoe 
Glides in the morning bright, 
Sing as the paddle in silence dips. 
Sing as the silvery water slips 

Dripping in gleams of light. 

Sing — for warm is the sunshine clear. 
Sing — for youth and warm life are dear^ 
Sing the earth in her springtime here. 

Past is the beach of the Silver Sands; 

Swirling the light canoe 
The stream leaps far from the hills 

above 
The great blue hills where the cloud- 
shapes move, 

Robes of the Manitou. 

Sing — for heart and arm are strong, 
Let the swell of the swinging song 
Sweep the heights of the hills along. 



20 



FOR THE NEW YEAR 

BACK to the shadows where the 
aeons sleep, 
We gave it whence it came 
The worn old year, 
But we the labor of its life must keep. 
The good is added to the marching time, 
The evil is with God for good sublime, 
O weary year thou 'st earned at last 

release, 
Peace be with thee evermore, aye peace. 

Let for the new a joyous welcome glow, 
For hope is ever young 
While life is life. 
So very old the ceaseless ebb and flow, 
But still we, dreaming, think with each 

new tide 
That higher on the shore the surges ride. 

21 



Each year more bravely work the 

laborers skilled, 
Each year draws nearer to the work 

fulfilled. 

And thou, new year. 
May all things great and good with thee 

prevail. 
We give thee joyous greeting — hail, all 

hail. 



22 



MESSAGE-ROSE 

I 



F you love me. dear, wear a rose to- 
night, 
If violets — no; 
I will watch and wait for my whole 
life's light 

In the flowers which blow/' 
And see what he writes at the letter's 

close — 
"Not the violets, love, but the rose, the 
rose!" 

'T is of crimson deep and the petals fair 

Like soft velvet fine; 
Ah, red rose, the glow in my heart is 
there 
As it is in thine! 
For the maidens dead are the roses 

white, 
But not one who lives as I live to-night. 



23 



VOYAGERS 

A STEADY stream of travelers to the 
sea, 
The wondrous sea of Death with noise- 
less tide, 
Across the land of Is and Long Has 

Been, 
Ever pour onward to that ocean side. 

Love is the meeting of the voyagers 
lone, 

A touch of warmth, a clinging human 
hand 

To be a little comfort on the road 

To the lost children through the un- 
known land. 

24 



And some there be who dream that far 

away 

Lies the White City of the Journey's 
End, 

A vision of the greater worlds to be, 

The reason for the unknown way we 

wend. 

They see the gleaming of a wondrous 

flame, 
They walk with faces lifted to the light. 
Among the crowds who blindly push and 

fall. 
They are the gods for whom there is no 

night. 



25 



SONNET 

FREEDOM from world-old tyrannies 
I see, 
Freedom from myth and those old 

childhood fears, 
Dread of the phantom dark and death 

who rears 
His head avenging. A great liberty 
Seems in my grasp. 1 even seem to be 
One with the gods, for ever in my ears 
The voice is ringing, " Rise, for he who 

hears 
The Idol-Breaker's call — he shall be 

free!'' 

He shall be free. Was ever dream so 
wild! 

26 



The freedom of the world lies just the 

same 
Beyond this prison, and the god, turned 

child, 
Cries for thy comfort. Let us play 

the game 
Together, thou and I, my pain beguiled. 
What does life say to thee, O little 

flame? 



27 



NOTRE DAME 

CATHEDRAL of Our Lady, throned 
on high! 
From Paris' busy streets and garish light. 
The great cathedral's aisles so vast and 

dim 
To rest and dream our weary souls invite. 
Upon the pavement falls the sunshine 

bright 
But soft and warm, dyed with a ruddy 

glow 
From the great stained-glass windows' 

varied height. 
Marking the hours with steady hand 

■ and slow 
As through the drift of storied centuries 
they go. 

28 



Through the still air there floats a low 

sweet chant, 
Borne down among the rows of pillars 

tall, 
It rises, sinks, and softly dies away 
While to the listening soul the ages' call 
It seems, and, peering thro' the shadows' 

pall, 
He looks to see the glint of martyrs' 

wings 
And see the saints come from their 

long-home wall. 
It is the Spirit of the Past that sings, 
And back to long-lost days our dreaming 

souls it brings. 



29 



IN NAPOLI 

SANTA LUCIA! Clear across the 
wave, 
The purple water and the golden light, 
The fisher girls are singing 'neath the 

moon 
A song in blending with the velvet 
night, 

Santa Lucia! Santa Lucia! 

O Napoli la bella! In a dream 
Enchantment holds us by thy curving 

shore. 
In one far land the lotus was the charm, 
But here 't is music holds us evermore. 
Santa Lucia! Santa Lucia! 



30 



THE GYPSY HEART 

O GYPSY hearts that have no rest 
for longing 
Who wander through the roads of all 
the world, 
Most lonely where the greatest crowds 
are thronging, 
Aye in the open for your tents are 
furled; 

Ye never find a faith to match your 
yearning. 
Ye never touch the gold at Rainbow's 
End, 
Ye never know a love that has no turn- 
ing. 
Nor meaning in the wistful way ye 
wend. 

31 



But ye have joy in your eternal roam- 
ing— 
Ye know the beauty of the unbought 
day. 
The nights are yours, the love cry in 
the gloaming, 
And that great luring road — the Gyp- 
sies' Way. 



32 



LOVE SONG 



TN thy far home beside the azure sea, 
^ I wonder if thou 'rt dreaming still 

of me, 
For I can think of nothing else but thee. 



The world goes on, day after day the 

same. 
Yet world and life to me are but a name, 
My life mounts up with thine as flame 

with flame. 

What matter if a great sea rolls be- 
tween ! 

My heart goes out to thine by ways 
unseen. 

For this is surely what our Fate must 
mean. 



33 



A SUMMER SOUVENIR 

THE fragrant petals of a faded rose 
Lie hidden in my "treasure box'' 
with care, 
A bud which died before it could dis- 
close 
Its heart's full beauty to the summer 
air. 



Only a bud, a little harmless flower. 
Of all sweet babes most innocent and 
fair, 
Yet it has caused me quite a troubled 
hour 
In cogitating — why 1 put it there. 

34 



What mem'ries sweet in your faint 
odors bide 
Of dance or drive or stroll in shady 
dell? 
Why need you now so close your secret 
hide? 
It was mine once. Tell, tell — why 
won't you tell? 

At last the drawer reluctantly I shut, 
All I can do is give free fancy scope, 

You tantalizing little rosebud — but 
Next time I 'W write it on the envelope. 



35 



THE GIFT 

WE seek that life some wondrous 
gift should fling 
Into our waiting arms — some strange 

great thing, 
We know not what — we ask the years 
to bring. 

But as the time goes on we dimly see 
The only gift of fate to you and me 
Is life itself — the very years which flee. 



36 



SONNET 

BE YON D the veil that shadows death 
and birth, 
In those strange days of other lives gone 

by, 

In some wide land of sun and flaming sky 

We shared our days of sadness and of 
mirth. 

Perchance 'twas when the Morning of 
the Earth 

Made all things young and tides of life 
ran high, 

We loved our love and sighed our heart- 
break sigh. 

And gave and took from life what life 
was worth. 

37 



The when or how's forgotten, but I 

know 
That I have known you, dear, and loved 

you there 
Beyond that Sea of Change. Half 

memories through 
My heart are stirring at your speaking— 

so, 
Your look, your perfect understanding 

where 
The rest are blind. Do you remember 

too? 



38 



A FROZEN WATERFALL 

THE little stream that murmuring on 
its way, 
Went gladly leaping like a happy 
child, 
Was met by Winter's icy breath one day, 
Which checked the joyous course of 
water wild. 

Now from the height where foaming 
torrents leap, 
Caught and festooned in many a 
dainty fold, 
Curtains of finest lace-work drape the 
steep 
Whose wind-blown loops the tasseled 
ice-bands hold. 
39 



Cushions of deep and softest velvet white 

Are piled in many a rest-inviting heap, 

But e'en though tempting to the weary 

sight, 

We may not rest — beware the long 

snow-sleep. 

And when the sunlight's golden rays 
adorn 
Pillar and arch, great dome and 
fretted cave 
The tints of flowers that on the brink 
were born 
Remain and the white purity re- 
lieve. 

Flower spirits which so love their 
summer home 
That they unheeding winter's chill- 
ing wind, 
With colors soft deck their loved 
streamlet's foam. 
Which still and cold the Frost-King's 
fingers bind. 
40 



There might the fairies hold their half- 
year's court, 
In many a palace grand and stately 
hall; 
Of all the marvels by the Ice- King 
wrought, 
The greatest is a frozen waterfall. 



41 



IN LATER DAYS 

"\\T^ ^re the gods," we cry these 

^ ^ later days, 
The gods have fallen, child tales are 

they all, 
Jehovah and the Buddha and the rest, 
Phantoms fashioned by the mind of man 
And changing with the changing of the 

age. 
Old gods are dead and no new gods are 

born. 
Nature the mighty brought us here, 

we say, 
And we the mightier take her work in 

hand 

To much improve thereon, for she is 

blind 

42 



And very faulty so her work has been. 
But we the Intellect, the Reasoners now 
Shall change the world and change the 

breed of men 
To beings who shall live unnatural lives 
By measures which we make to measure 

by, 

Our standards and our Rules of Right 

and Wrong; 
By Science and the Higher Reasoning. 
Turning from Nature and her inborn 

lore 
Binding and fast'ning her and stifling 

back 
The knowledge brought us through a 

million years 
Of pain and love and war against the 

world — 
As if one man with his threescore and 

ten 
Could match against that ghostly an- 
cestry! 
Futile it is and very childlike as 

43 



The babe who beats his mother with soft 

hands 
Thinking his way is better than her own. 
The mighty mother, Life, whose many 

babes 
BHndly she bore, not knowing how nor 

why 
Their future nor the reason for their 

birth, 
Is always striving for a better child, 
Perfect and nobly formed and fit to live 
And hold his own in the rough war of 

worlds. 
Experiments she tried and some were 

good. 
And some not to her liking she let die, 
As wandering from her thought of use- 
fulness, 
As lacking in respect to her known law. 
We are no gods, but just a child of 

Chance, 
Developed from the life-blood of the 

world 

44 



Down the long ages of experiment, 
From the first quickening of primordial 

ooze. 
And Life will warm us in her breast 

while we 
Keep to her laws nor kill ourselves with 

pride, 
Dreaming our morals better than her 

own. 
Dreaming us greater than our Million 

Years. 



45 



A DREAM PORTRAIT 

A shadowy face 
Half seen through dusky masses of warm 

hair, 
Soft in the tender touching of a dream, 
With eyes so deep and dark that light 
is lost 

In their far depths 
As black upon the snow absorbs the sun; 
And such sweet lips as children love to 

kiss 
On which pure innocence will ever lie. 

A saintly face, 
Yet not an icy saint — for she is life, 
Life, O my dream-girl, in its fullest glow 
Of quickenmg fire, passion flushed, and 
still 

46 



So pure a spirit. 
The shadowy veil is drawn away and then 
The bright lips smile upon me as I gaze, 
The while her clear pale cheek will flush 
as if 

She too were pleased. 
Her mouth is childlike still, for neither 

sneer 
Nor word of harshness nor of hard'ning 

hate 
Has passed it, but her eyes are old, so 
old. 

For they have seen 
The sorrow of the world and grievous 

sin. 
Those Mighty Ones have touched but 

left no scar 
For she has healing for the wounds they 
make. 

O my fair Dream! 
I know that I shall keep that spirit face 
To cheer my way, as straying in the dark 
I try to wander back upon the path. 

47 



A dream — but life; 
Dark shadows shroud her — yet she is 

most real; 
She does not live — yet truly lives for 

me. 
If only I may ever understand 

• As well as now 
All that her glorious eyes would say 

perhaps — 
Who knows? When we have felt our 

way beyond 
And come at last into that Place where 

all 

The lights are lit, 
But I may find her, O my dream, my 

love, 
And she will take me by the hand and 

say, 
**Come, dear, with me, for you and I 

have known 

Each other long." 



48 



SAPPHIC VERSE 

SAD is our fate in these new days of 
science, 
Seeing the world in its true naked mean- 
ing, 
Torn are the veils of all our lost illusions, 
Showing the real truths. 

Love was divine in our old days of 

dreaming. 
Lovers touched hands in life's soft 

misty darkness, 
Known of the gods and fore-ordained 

for ages, 

Loved in illusion. 

Love is naught now but a compound of 
atoms 

4 49 



Bound hard and fast by chemical at- 
traction, 

**1 love'' and "thou lov'st" an affair 
of physics, 

Fit for the chemist. 

Where is the romance of the storm- 
tossed sailor 

And those brave ships, the Hearts of 
Oak of England? 

They are all gone, all gone to make a way 
for 

The Lusitania. 

All soon will go, poetry of the unknown, 
Amethyst clouds fading into the clear 

day, 
But still remain the interstellar spaces 
Left for exploring. 



50 



LIGHT 

OUR yearning, sweetheart, lasts 
while we are living, 
Our yearning for life's colors. We have 

joy 
In that great shadowy, many-sided 

prism. 
The wondrous prism of the living 

world. 
The light shines through it, making 

many colors 
And just our glimpse of beauty makes 

our joy. 
We yearn because there is so much of 

beauty, 

We know that there is more than we 

can dream. 

51 



I see your soul, the sea, the sky all azure, 
I see the sunshine on those great white 

birds, 
I see in blending green and gold and 

crimson, 
The iridescent splendor of the world! 
Love, we are dreamers in this world of 

color. 
Colors of beauty, mystic meaning, joy ; 
We see beyond the violet of the prism, 
The hues increase with our new powers 

of vision; — 
And as we gaze we are dazed and 

drowned with seeing. 
Hush, whisper now, if we were not so 

blinded. 
We'd see all blend in one white light, — 

that 's God. 
Could we see that we should be freed 

from bondage, 
Freed from all tints of passion, feeling, 

thinking, 
Colorless all in the white light of God. 

52 



This will not be until the Prism's 

broken, 
Then we shall see Direct the Light 

Divergent. 



53 



MEMORY 

FOR three short months I knew you 
and your love, 
Forbidden love which did not dare to 

own 
Itself in words, and so we looked and 

dreamed. 
And in our dreams we were no more 
alone. 

Now you are gone, and I try hard to 

sing; 
The world looks dim, the lights grow 

less and less — 
I hope you kept some comfort from those 

days, 
For all that I have left is loneliness. 



54 



BON VOYAGE 

ONE June day he went away, 
On a longed-for holiday, 
On a steady Cunard ship 
For the Mediterranean trip. 
Sailing now toward Italy 
All the wonders there to see. 
In that land of faery gold, 
He will see the temples old 
Roman gods held long ago, 
And those hills so green and low 
Clustering round fair Tivoli 
Where Horace wrote his poetry. 

In a funny little train 
He will cross a dusty plain, 
Coming down to Naples gay. 
Lying round its sapphire bay. 

55 



Here the day is always noon, 
Here one's heart will stay in tune, 
Here the people's soul is song. 
Mingling with the merry throng 
Mem'ries of his life will go, 
In a dream he '11 only know 
Joy to hear the harmony 
And feel the charm of Napoli. 

With a red Baedeker book. 
Shepherded by Father Cook, 
He will muse in Florence, where 
O'er rich past and treasures rare 
The Duomo's shadow falls, 
Weird Savonarola calls. 
Venice too, the Island Queen, 
Offers many a sumptuous scene. 
Set with strange love plays and grim. 
All Italy is waiting him. 
Oh, what tales he '11 tell when he 
Will come back sailing over sea! 



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NORWAY 

HAIL to the Northland, hail! 
Whence came the wondrous tale 
Of Siegfried and Baldur 
Where lived the Valkyries, 
Bearing o'er bloody seas 
Heroes to live at ease, 
Aye in Valhalla. 



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SCOTLAND 

THERE 's a land of purple heather, 
Where the bagpipes skirl together. 
Where 'tis always misty weather, 
Land of Robbie Burns. 



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ENGLAND 

A VIS ION of green fields and soft 
thick trees, 
With little pink -tipped daisies in the 

grass 
And over there the gray of castle walls. 
The children bring the Maypole through 

the glades, 
These grave-eyed, happy children soon 

to be 
Their England's Bulwark, lovers of a 

land 
Of dignity and noble memories. 



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JAPAN 

OWORD of iron in a sheath of velvet, 
^ Land of many strange and curious 

contrasts, 
Unsurpassed in courtHness and culture, 
Unsurpassed in warfare. 



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THE MARSEILLAISE 

VISIONS of old France draw near 
With the thrilling Marseillaise. 
In that marching song we hear 
The echo of those breathless days 
When France, flushed with victory, 
Led the world toward liberty. 



6i 



DEATH 

HIS coat and cap are hanging on the 
wall, 
But he will never need them any more. 
He died three days ago. We buried him 
Deep in the fresh, brown, sun-warmed 

earth of May. 
I do not cry or grieve, 1 only think 
In mute surprise — "This thing is very 
strange.'' 



62 



MONA LISA TO LEONARDO 

O LEONARDO, though by Fate's 
decreeing, 
The painting over, you must stay away, 
Your soul comes here, the spirit of your 

being, 
I have you with me all the long, gray 

day, 
A phantom to the phantom life within. 
At night 1 hear you speak. The words 

you say 
Are toneless echoes spiritual and thin, 
I in my darkening room sit breathless 

there 
Tuned to your touching like a violin. 
Your joys I know and all your world 

of care. 

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I say I have the best of love's strange 

case, 
The best of you in this communion rare. 
But oh, the aching for your arms' 

embrace, 
To have you near me and to see your 

face! 



64 



A SUMMER DAY 

HAPPY, hazy, summer day, 
Lazily spent 'neath willow trees. 
By the murmuring water-way 
Lulled by the caressing breeze. 

While the river on its way, 
Sings an endless soothing lay 
Gentle as the summer day. 

Near, the cows come down to drink, 
There the weary sheep dogs lie 
While their sleepy charges blink 
As the shining perch swim by. 

Lying on the grassy brink, 
List'ning to the bob-o-link, 
Thoughts calm as clear skies I 
think. 



65 



FROM HORACE'S ODES 

ADVICE TO LICINIUS 

LIVE a moderate life, Licinius, 
Neither always out to sea 
Pressing in thy eager passion, 
Nor too closely hug the lee 

Of the dangerous shore in storm time. 

He who seeks the Golden Mean 
Safe shall flee from want and squalor 

Nor to envious riches lean. 

Oftener the storm wind lashes 
The strong pine-tree in its might, 

Tallest towers fall in ruin 

Greater for their former height, 

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Mountain tops are struck by lightning 
Oftener than the valleys low, 

Highest places catch the fury 
Of the stormy winds that blow. 

Well-prepared, the brave heart hopeth 
In cruel Fortune's gathering frown. 

When she smiles, he fears her changing, 
Fears to lose his golden crown. 

Change, yes change, for aye and ever, 
As the winters come and go; 

Harsh they are but soon are over- 
Then the summer flowers blow. 

Now thy fortune may be evil. 

Thus it will not always be, 
But the future coming, coming. 

Hides the better things for thee. 

Gentle touches on the cithern 
Sometimes wake a silent Muse, 

Oft Apollo lays his bow by 
Nor does his good gifts refuse. 

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When the times are stern and saddening 

In thy spirit do not quail, 
And before propitious breezes 

Shorten thy too swelling sail. 



68 



SONNET 

OFT in uneasy sleep we turn and sigh. 
Troubled by phantom shape or 
ghostly fear. 
Or in the dark by some dread Presence 

near. 
Then, like a child, whose little moaning 

cry. 
Whose face all flushed and pillows all 

awry, 
And on his cheek the staining of a tear 
Show that he dreams, we lift our heads 

to hear 
The voice he too has longed for make 
reply. 

He played too hard all day and so have 

we, 

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vaaum 



The sun has been so strong that in our 

sleep 
The turmoil and the heat we cannot flee. 
But softly through the room's dark 

silence deep 
Her voice steals in its soothing accents 

blest, 
*' All's well, beloved. 1 am here, so — 

rest." 



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